Aveline Johnson • Sophomore • Viola
I had hardly slept, maybe max of an hour - though I know I was far from the least lucky. We had a plane set out to fly early in the morning, there was no getting around it. A bleary sort of drowsiness bordering on delirium thought to make itself known, pervading my senses and threatening me with sleep lest I close my eyes for a second. The airport we arrived at seemed to almost agree with me if its' barren state were to go by, with its' off-white and cream hues giving a nervous serenity about it: tantalising me with the relief and edge an almost futuristic wasteland devoid of people brings. Past the check-out and up the stairs, however, provided more colour and life. Neon purples and greens and reds lit pillars and platforms near them, plants strewn both carefully and haphazardly around the floor, tables, and stands, added a hint of life, and strange, light-blue objects not unlike jellyfish hung from the unreachable ceiling. I could almost call it beautiful in its strange architecture - especially for something of an airport. As we set our stuff, awaiting the plane, I found the dreariness much easier to handle as delirious laughter escaped smoothly. I could truly enjoy the waning time of this certainly interesting trip through ridiculous conversations only ever brought into existence from late nights, and finally let what was to happen sink in. I was going home.
